


Healing

by slothinsocks



Series: Maul’s Infatuation [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Maul Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Maul being kinda seductive, Maulmara, Touching, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothinsocks/pseuds/slothinsocks
Summary: Amara is offered a new position, and a familiar Dathomirian visits her within the night.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Maul’s Infatuation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893727
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Healing

Amara hadn’t a clue that the work of a Senator would be so … Dull. She did not feel very important or influential, and the more she observed, the more she wondered how her father had become so accomplished. Senator Cordessa was well-established within the Galactic Senate. What would they all think about his only child, only half of the politician that he was? 

Such thoughts nagged at her often, but it all paled in comparison to her scatterbrained fixations about Maul. He had left her on something of a cliffhanger the last time, which made her wait in anticipation for the next time she’d see him. It wasn’t everyday, but it was often enough for her liking. 

She impatiently sat through hours upon hours of hearings and meetings with Bail Organa, all the while, her mind would be drifting to Maul, who she would see later that evening. It was thrilling to share in such secrecy — no one knew anything of her little escapades, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Tonight would be their fourth meeting. The previous three were always so different from one another, as far as subject matter went. Maul wasn’t extremely talkative, but with content he knew, he had quite a skilled tongue and an eloquent way of speaking. There were still so many things about him that seemed so vague and blurry. Most of their nights, he’d asked about her. Made her the focal point of their conversation.

Amara wanted to make a valiant effort to learn about him. She’d even researched about the Zabrak people, in order to make herself more acquainted with his kind. She did not know that they had two hearts — she wondered what that felt like. Was the beating always so persistent? She would have to ask Maul, if that were the case. Her mind was so far out, somewhere else entirely. Her gaze shifted towards decoration in the Council chambers, along with opposite walls. 

It did not take a smart man to see that Amara was distracted. Bail had noticed her behavior — the excitability intermingled with nervousness. He had pinned it all on being new to the life of a Senator, but it was something else, he felt like. She still sought him out for advice or whenever they attended meetings together, but she seemed a little more independent. Bail thought of Amara as if she were his own daughter, and so parental instincts seemed to kick in whether he wanted them to or not.

The Chancellor had kept an eye upon Amara, too. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one curious about her recent change in behavior and antics. Bail wondered if it was homesickness and missing her father, too — this was all a new environment, and people dealt with stress very differently. He knew he needed to ask her, should the moment arise.

When the meeting was adjourned, Amara had attempted to be the first to leave, her movements hasty. Bail made no comment on her swiftness, though it seemed the Chancellor had beat him to it. 

“Senator Cordessa,” Palpatine’s wizened voice carried over the other politicians, who did not gawk, and instead filed out as they normally would. Bail watched her expression change from giddiness to nervousness within the blink of an eye, though he opted to stand outside and wait for her. He had questions. “I’d like to speak with you, should you have a moment.”

“Oh, ah … Of course, Chancellor Palpatine.” Amara remained somewhat collected, gathering her things and packing them into her satchel. She smoothed her palms across her robes, approaching Palpatine with a kind yet timid smile. It was in her nature to be skittish — she returned to herself immediately.

Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she could see Bail Organa at the fringe of the room, his head bobbing in the Chancellor’s direction. He disappeared through the silvery doors not long after to give them privacy. His absence made her stomach churn violently, though she did her best to ignore her anxiousness. She had spoken to Palpatine before, though it was at a much more relaxed gathering of politicians. This one-on-one scenario made her wonder if she did something wrong. 

“Would you join me for a walk, Lady Amara?” Palpatine asked, his tone unusually stoic. Amara had a horrible feeling that this would turn into some rigorous lecture on paying attention during small Senate meetings. Nonetheless, she decided to join him, following at his side as they exited from the doors. Bail Organa was nowhere in-sight, and that only made her nerves worse. Everything spiraled and skyrocketed out of control within her mind, where most of her nervousness came from.

The pair strolled from the Chancellor’s terrace, down a series of spacious corridors, marked with royal guards at entryways and exits. Everything remained eerily quiet - hushed enough that one could’ve heard a pin drop. Amara felt small and helpless next to Palpatine, who occasionally gave her a sideways glance. Each time, she never met his gaze - it was too frightening and too overwhelming. Their silence remained strained, an awkward tension until Amara finally summoned the courage to ask, “Am I in trouble, Chancellor Palpatine?”

His laugh indicated that her question was both childish and silly. How presumptuous of her, believing that she was in trouble. Palpatine appeared to be vaguely amused with her antics, a greying eyebrow lifting to show his curiosity. “No, Senator. You are not in any trouble, as far as I am aware,” He hesitated. “Unless you’ve done something?” It was open-ended. 

Amara immediately shook her head, her face rushing with a warmth of color. Deep down, she knew that seeing Maul would be considered ‘wrong’, to others. To her? Not in the slightest. It was one of the first times she hadn’t felt so terribly alone. Of course, disclosing this information to Chancellor Palpatine would be foolish on her end. “No, Chancellor. I almost thought you called me out to correct my distractedness during the meeting.” She admitted.

Palpatine smiled at her thoughtfulness and transparency. “Even I can become bored with such political affairs. Not to worry, Senator.” He paused. “I wanted to speak with you about a new position, something I believe you would fit very well.” He spoke, canting his head to one side. The Chancellor slowed his pace, coming to stand in front of a large, glass window. The view out into Coruscant was nothing short of picturesque - the orange skies, bustling city life. Palpatine’s smile waned into something faint.

“A new position? I would be honored, Chancellor, though … Are you sure I am the right person for this job?” Amara was bewildered, though shocked, above all. What had she done to deserve such a prestigious job from the Chancellor himself? Some sliver of her thought he knew about Maul, though it was all stemming from her scatterbrained and nervous mind. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I thought you weren’t capable.” The Chancellor mused, turning to face her. He kept a comfortable gap between them, her shock a bit endearing. “I would like you to be my eyes and ears. A confidant, if you will. I would be more than happy to assist you within your political career.” An honest request, one that held plenty of benefits. “I know that your father would be proud of you.” 

“Thank you, Chancellor Palpatine. This opportunity means much to me, I promise to not disappoint you.” Amara replied, her tone a bit hasty and giddy. It was both reassuring and refreshing to hear that. She often worried about living within the shadow of her father, constantly afraid of letting him down. To know that the Chancellor himself believed in her, was another feeling entirely. It certainly gave her a much-needed boost of confidence.

“You will not disappoint me, Amara.” Palpatine cleared his throat. “I should let you go. It seems I’ve kept Senator Organa waiting for far too long,” He mused, pressing his hands together. “We will be seeing one another again very soon.” He nodded, politely tipping his head.

“Of course, Chancellor. I will keep an open eye out for your summons.” Amara excused herself with a cordial bow, moving away from the Chancellor and back into the corridor. It took her a long time to find Bail, who wasn’t in his original spot from before. He was waiting by a different set of doors that led to a small docking bay. By the time she reached him, he seemed somewhat impatient, though curious as to what happened.

“So, you aren’t in trouble?” Bail mused, the pair walking together toward the shuttle. It was a small transport that would take them back to their apartments. It was nearly time for dinner, and both Amara and Senator Organa seemed to be itching for food. Besides, she wanted to have a peaceful night, one that included Maul if he showed up. 

“No. He offered me a new position as an aide,” Amara rubbed her hands together, her pace and stride giddy as could be. It was the chance of a lifetime, surely. The Chancellor must’ve seen her potential — otherwise, he would’ve found someone else. 

“Congratulations,” Bail smiled, genuine as ever. He was proud of her, she’d come a long way in the month that they’d been in Coruscant thus far. Working with the Chancellor would be good for her, and improve her abilities in negotiations and whatnot. “A celebratory dinner is in order.” He chuckled.

On the transport back to the suites, Amara kept thinking about her conversation with Palpatine. As excited as she was for her new job, she felt a little off. Surely, he knew plenty of things that she didn’t know, but part of her felt as if he knew her secrets. Maybe things that her father had told him, she assumed. 

She wondered what Maul would think of her promotion. His insight mattered a great deal to her … Amara was somewhat worried that he wouldn’t show up tonight. He had made good on his word each time before, and typically, her own insecurities got in the way of rational thinking. She was determined to hurry through dinner — she could barely contain herself.

As the shuttle landed, Bail and Amara made their way into the luxurious apartments, surrounded by the comfortable atmosphere. It was a good place to stay during all of this, and it had become like home. All of the servants were kind and helpful, and the food was delicious. Amara had something of a sweet tooth herself, and so, meals were always something she looked forward to.

Breha Organa was already situated at the dinner table by the time Bail and Amara arrived. There were other politicians situated in this very building, though differing planets had their own levels to themselves in order to give everyone space. Amara liked having her own floor, technically speaking. 

Dusk was beginning to settle over Coruscant by the time dinner was served. Some sort of hearty stew and vegetables, it seemed. Dessert looked to be a fluffy cake, iced and topped with various fruits from offworld realms. Bail and Breha made idle conversation, asking Amara about her new position and what Chancellor Palpatine had to say. She was happy to speak to them — Bail and his wife had always been remarkably kind to her and good company.

“You were ravenous,” Breha commented on the swiftness of Amara’s eating. Her bowl and plate had both been cleaned completely. “These affairs can last for such a long time, and be dreadfully boring.” The woman chimed, tossing a glance in Bail’s direction. 

“What are you implying, darling?” Bail quipped, keeping a lighthearted expression and smile in the process. He looked to Amara, who was already moving out of her seat in such a rush. “Finished so soon?”

“Yes,” Amara nodded, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead. “I’m rather weary, to tell you the truth. I think I might rest.” She pretended to be a bit fatigued, offering both of the Organas a smile. “I promise I am not trying to run off on you.” 

However, Amara couldn’t wait to see Maul. She had never been this excitable over another person before let alone someone as intimidating and callous as he was. Maul liked to pretend that he was some dark force, fearsome and bloodthirsty, though he did have quite the humorous side if Amara played her cards right. It came out rarely, but willingly, whenever she could unlock it.

She never underestimated him, though. He didn’t like to be underestimated in the first place. Amara knew that there was something profoundly powerful about him, about the way he moved. It was always with a purpose, and always with some suppressed anger. With her, he tried to behave, and she could see the effort, but beyond that? Maul was a force to be reckoned with. 

Moving out of her seat, she excused herself without another utterance, walking down the corridor at a swift pace. She tried to seem inconspicuous, but it was terribly difficult. Slipping past her silvery doors, she was met with the encroaching darkness of her chambers. Amara sighed, moving to touch a panel on the wall for illumination …

There, laying in the untouched side of her bed, was Maul. 

Amara yelped in surprise, hearing the Zabrak grunt and growl, his head craning in her direction. Those familiar yellow irises bored into her, rimmed with that crimson halo. His expression was contorted and scrunched into what seemed like exhaustion and agony, though he didn’t mention anything of it. He was still swaddled within his dark cloak and robes, though his cowl was slightly removed.

“Hello,” He greeted her this time in that familiar husky baritone, though his voice was kept low and hushed. He could tell that he’d really startled Amara with his sudden appearance, though she gradually calmed down and seemed happy to see him.

Happy to see him. Maul would never let that go. 

“Maul,” Amara whispered, fingers slipping toward the panel. With a mere grace of her fingertip, the braziers would illuminate the room with dim, atmospheric lighting. Maul seemed to appreciate the gesture — he could see so much better within the night, and within the darkness. The low lighting made it easier for him. “Are you alright?” She asked, slowly moving towards him.

“Of course.” The Zabrak murmured, though his voice had slipped somewhat. It was easy to detect that he wasn’t okay, and he was braving through it, of course. Maul was simply stubborn — hard headed, too, and it made him difficult to deal with. He grunted, attempting to sit up a little more, blankets rustling.

Skeptical and suspicious, Amara stood at his side, staring down at him with those big, doe-like eyes. Her hands were twisting together again — Maul had realized that it was her nervous tick. Whenever she became riddled with anxiety, that was what she did — anything with her hands, pulling at the fabric of her gowns and whatnot. She noticed that he had kept an arm across his torso. “You aren’t a convincing liar,” She whispered.

Maul relented, his scowl wavering somewhat. He couldn’t deny her when she spoke like that, all soft and soothing as if he were a little animal. He hated being looked down upon, but Amara’s way was born out of concern and genuine care. He couldn’t fathom why she’d ever care about him, but Maul had a difficult time understanding her morals at times. Hard to believe that Amara existed, at times — her attitude, her tender heart. It was endearing, even if he would never admit it outright. 

“You are relentless,” He sighed, and decided to stand up for her to better inspect him. The Zabrak hovered over her, the two nearly chest-to-chest. Their closeness made him smirk just slightly, enough to where it was entirely noticeable. “And so close.” Maul murmured, reveling in her blush as she took a step away from him. 

Peeling away his cloak, he set the heavy garment aside, tossing it toward the foot of her bed. A pained growl escaped him, followed by a disdainful hiss when Amara reached for him. He did not like this feeling of helplessness he felt, being at her mercy. He was far too powerful to be coddled like this — it made him seem weak to her, vulnerable. Maul wanted to be invincible, especially to Amara. 

“Let me help,” Amara softly pleaded with him, able to see the part of the tunic where the cloth had become marred around a wound. He didn’t recoil, though he didn’t look happy about it, either. Her hand moved toward his left side, fingertips just barely grazing the fabric that stuck to his skin. She was no expert on medical tactics, but she knew enough to understand that he needed bandages, cleaning and the like. “Oh, Maul,” Her tone sounded a touch scolding. 

“What?” He grumbled, gaze narrowing down upon her. She was close, closer than she’d ever been before. Maul could smell her — the flowers again, gaudy perfumes that clung to her skin. Her golden hair was pinned back in certain places, her curls tamed to waves, instead. He decided that he enjoyed her this way, girlish gowns and all. Maul drank her in no matter how she appeared to him. “Do not bother with it.” 

Maul had never seen her in a frustrated or disgruntled state, but his words had provoked that from her so very quickly. He watched her stare at him as if he’d said something incredibly outrageous. Maul was the sort to deal with his wounds and embrace the pain, let the agony run its course. Not this time, apparently. 

“You’re bleeding, Maul.” Amara’s voice was soft and sweet, though had an edge of stoicism. “Please let me help you.” She wasn’t really asking this time, either. She planned on forcing him to let her fix him up to ease her conscience. She could smell the coppery stench of blood — and if she could sense it, so could he. “Just this once.”

He couldn’t deny her. 

Maul frowned, though decided to take the cordial route and let her do as she pleased. Grumpy and despondent, he lowered himself back down onto her bed, the mattress sinking somewhat with his weight. It was a strange feeling, being cared for — he never imagined that it would be like this. Nonetheless, he sat and waited for her as she dug through her belongings and shuffled around through the refresher.

When she returned, her hands were full. Bandages, a small med-pack, and a shallow basin of warm water and a cloth. He wanted to scoff and snort, but he decided against it — Maul didn’t want to offend her. She was helping him, after all. After placing the bowl upon the nightstand, she dragged it over toward the side of the bed and sat down on his left.

“This seems excessive,” Maul chimed, a bit of smugness within his voice. He felt her fingers grace near his wound again, and without warning, he loosened his tunic enough so that she could work unhindered. 

Amara peered toward his face, lifting a golden eyebrow. “You are excessive,” She grumbled, her hand drifting toward the edge of his tunic. She was embarrassed and flustered, afraid to pull it away anymore. He was incredibly muscular, bulkier with muscle. His torso was still red and black, scars intermingled across his rougher skin. Blood oozed from his wound, sticky and viscous as it matted against his tunic and flesh. “Does it hurt?” Amara whispered.

Her retort made him grin, though it disappeared as soon as it had appeared. “So I’ve heard.” He crooned. Maul could detect how nervous she’d become, and their physical closeness didn’t make anything easier. He was attracted to her in the conventional way, a man toward a woman, though he was attracted to her for heart, too. Something he was too cowardly to admit, of course, but that was not for here. “Yes.” He answered her question honestly instead of muddying the truth. 

The silky texture of her fingertips made him shiver involuntarily when she touched along his side. Maul was frustrated with himself for his reactions, but her gracious embrace made him realize how much he craved this. The contact, the yearning … Maul exhaled when the cloth swept along the wound, cleaning away the blood that clung to him.

Through their silence, Maul found himself watching her hawkishly, especially when she had her face turned away from him. His hearts raced a little faster with each touch, even if it were meant to assist, he could only imagine what it would be like if she were to touch him in a lustful way. A rumble emanated from his chest as she pressed the med-pack near his injury. 

She was surprised at how well she’d remained composed. It was the first time that Amara had been so close with a man, and the comfortable silence they’d fallen into made her breath hitch within her throat. His skin was feverishly warm, though his body temperature seemed to be in a constant state of heat. Maul was his own sun. Amara had a feeling that he could detect what she felt … His gaze practically seared through her. 

“I have a new job,” Amara finally spoke up with a gentle smile, unraveling enough of the bandages to wrap around his torso three times over. She didn’t want to bore Maul, but she was excited to share this information with him. 

“Oh?” Maul’s golden hues fluttered toward her visage. Round, soft … Fragile. Their vulnerability seemed to overflow, overlap with one another. The Zabrak was willing to listen to whatever she had to say, even if it involved the boring antics of politicians.

“The Chancellor asked me to be his aide, like a confidant.” She replied, and it was spectacular timing as she secured the bandages, because Maul had whipped around to face her as if she’d struck him. 

“The Chancellor is not your friend, Amara.” Maul snarled, his eyes igniting with something fiery and sincere. The way he said her name was born out of concern, and it sent shivers down her spine. “He only seeks to manipulate you.” He cautioned, despite the harshness of his tone. 

“What do you mean?” She whispered, watching as he moved off of the bed with a pained grunt. He wasn’t even healed, and his movements were erratic and always so full of anger. 

Maul sighed, knowing he’d said too much. Pressing one hand against the bridge of his nose, he lingered near the balcony, moonlight striking his form in the most picturesque of lighting. Amara was blushing, attempting to avert her gaze. Whether he believed it or not, she found Maul to be extremely attractive — handsome, even. He had a wonderful jawline. 

“Complications. Another time.” He brushed the subject aside. This would be dangerous. If Palpatine got close to Amara, it could result in her demise if they weren’t careful. Maul simply couldn’t fathom to lose her. Such thoughts were so irrational, and if this were years ago, he would’ve laughed at the thought. But Amara was someone he couldn’t lose — she was important to him. Maul turned to face her, tunic loose around his body. “Trust my judgment.”

“I trust you, Maul. I do” Amara nodded, watching as he drifted across her chambers, prying through a stack of books. She thought he said something, though it sounded like amused grumbling. Taking the basin of water into the refresher, she decided to clean up whilst he looked through her things for a second time. The first was startling, but she could see him in the mirror — picking up her books with a scoff, or wrinkling his nose at one of her garments. It was endearing. 

Maul didn’t want her to trust him. It would only spell her doom if she kept clinging onto him so tightly, yet he loved it whenever she did. It was horrendously hypocritical of him to want her and to push her away all the same. He yearned for her, yet did not have the gall to ask. The mere thought of seeing her with another person made his blood boil, enraged him to no avail. What a fool he’d become. 

He watched her whenever she did not look in his direction. Amara was much smaller than he was, still fresh-faced to the world. She did not yet understand how cruel and unforgiving it could be … Maul felt responsible for her, a need to protect and shield her from whatever harm came her way. Would he swear this to himself? Absolutely. He’d fallen too far, now. It would be impossible to simply remove himself from her. He would never forgive himself if he hurt her in any shape or form. 

She emerged from the refresher, clean and seemingly curious. Maul held one of her books between his gloved hands, perusing the pages with a disgruntled expression. “Do you like to read?” Amara asked, watching as he turned around to face her.

“Books are silly,” Maul rolled his eyes — it was so theatrical that it made Amara giggle. Maul didn’t seem like the studious type to her, not when it came to literature, anyway. Studious about different subjects? Absolutely. If she had asked him about fighting or flying, he might have a wise answer. “They just remove oneself from reality, farther from the problems they must face.” He murmured. 

“What if I do not have any problems to remove myself from? And I simply like books?” Amara challenged in a meek tone, though it was accompanied by a smile. She liked these conversations with Maul — the ones that made the gears in her head turn over and over again. 

“Then you must have some underlying, unconscious issue.” Maul teased her, thrusting a finger at the cover of said book. It was some whimsical romance novel of adventure, peril, and damsels. Of course, the Zabrak could understand why she read it — she wanted to imagine herself in the shoes of a doting maiden. “Curious subject matter.” His voice lowered, barely loud enough for her to hear. 

Amara had never looked at it that way before, though decided to ask about the chromium item he often carried with him. She’d never questioned it before — Maul always diverted or asked about her, instead. She enjoyed that he wanted to learn about her, but now it was her turn to interrogate him.

“This,” Amara pointed a finger toward the item in-question. “I’ve never seen you without it.” 

Maul had this gleam within his yellow irises, a sheen unlike any other. It was almost sinister, in a way, though he decided to indulge her curiosities. Of course, she would look upon his beloved weapon with wonder. It was an instrument of his rage. He knew that Amara wanted to know more — the intrigue was interlaced within her body language. There were some things he was willing to divulge, others, not so much. His hand closed around the object before he lifted it into his hand.

“An ancient weapon,” Maul’s voice had lowered to satisfactory hum, a husky purr of a baritone that seemed eager to show her more of what he valued. “A lightsaber.” He ignited one side of it, and the beam was a vibrant red. Amara jumped away, able to feel the heat and energy that wafted from the blade. 

“It’s what the Jedi use,” Amara stared at Maul incredulously. He had never directly told her what he did, who he served, or his motives. She never asked and enjoyed him however he came. This time, it seemed different. He was more inclined to tell her personal information. “Though … You aren’t a Jedi, are you?”

Maul was hesitant to answer, searching her feelings. There was no indication of fear or mistrust from her end, which sparked intrigue yet again. For everything he did, Amara accepted it without hounding him or begging for elaboration. She took him as he was — and that was a liberating feeling. 

“No.” 

His answer did not come as a surprise to Amara. He sheathed his weapon, letting it dangle from the leather belt he wore around his hips. Maul’s tunic still remained undone, though the evening breeze felt good against his scalding skin. Amara’s seafoam hues settled upon him once more, her gaze swimming with questions. A yawn escaped her, followed by her rubbing her eyes. 

“And this,” Amara reached out, hand hovering over his chest. Her index finger pointed toward the black patterns zagging all across his body. “These are your tattoos? Are they everywhere?” She asked, watching as he lifted one hand, removing the glove. Even across his forearm and fingers, there were tattoos. His nails were sharper, as if made to rend and tear. “Wasn’t it …” Her lips formed a thin line. “Painful?”

“Yes.” Maul answered solemnly, golden eyes glaring down upon her with a searing intensity. It wasn’t in a negative way, but he did ogle her very openly this time, without regard for what she’d think. “To become a Sith, we must embrace even the worst sort of suffering to ensure our devotion. These tattoos show my strength, tenacity,” He murmured, hues fluttering toward her hand. He was desiring her touch — not even desire, no. It was a craving, a deep-seated need for her tender embrace. 

Amara frowned, eyebrows furrowing together. The palm that hovered just over his chest became warm from the close proximity, yet she still did not touch him. She was afraid that he would recoil and instill a silent rejection, or become upset with her. As she moved her hand away, fingers curling into her palm, Maul’s breathing visibly quickened, almost from a nagging sense of worry. 

He leaned into her, able to hear the stammer in the back of her throat. A delicious noise, to be sure — he wanted more. “Go on.” Maul whispered, a low, pleasant purr to her ears. 

With his consent and insistence, Amara’s palm came to rest against his chest, just underneath his inked collarbone. She felt the powerful, raw muscle beneath her palm, the heat that poured against her skin … And the steady, rhythmic beating of two hearts, thudding together in harmonious synchronization. A soft gasp tore past her parted lips, and once more, she felt his eyes upon her — waiting. 

Maul’s head swam with her embrace. He wanted to touch her too, but for his own sake, he needed to show restraint. If he touched her, it would be over, and he would be lost to primal urges. If he held out for a little longer, perhaps it would be worthwhile — it could be sweeter, then. He could feel her silky fingertips tense over his hearts, as if pausing to feel their beating. He noticed her sleepy visage, even through the elated and flustered expression. Maul did not want to keep her up all night with his antics. 

Amara’s little hand moved, tracing over every jagged line and intricate detail inked into his skin. Touching Maul was a different sensation — thrilling and exhilarating, though intimidating all the same. She was leaning closer, her palm resting against his sternum, now. Maul tilted closer, hovering above her, inhaling another gust of her scent. 

Without thinking, his hand moved to gently clasp her wrist, sharper nails tracing over her delicate skin. Maul could feel just how soft she was, and his mind began to race in a hundred different directions. She would be the end of him, he knew this. His free hand extended, brushing away golden tresses that would obscure her pretty face from his view. Everything about her invited him in — Maul had never craved another’s touch before, not in the way he wanted Amara’s. 

She blushed, blood rushing to her cheeks. The pallor bordered upon scarlet instead of a rosy hue, feeling his hand press near the crook of her shoulder. A singular finger slipped underneath the strap of her nightgown, only to lift it back into place. Her stomach had effectively turned to mush, and if it weren’t for her drowsiness, she would be melting. 

“You must be tired,” He murmured, watching her eyelashes flutter and her hand snap away, back to her side. Amara ran a hand through her hair, rubbing at her eyes once or twice. “Sleep.” Maul suggested, watching as she moved toward her bed. It was nearing the time to leave, on his end. His hand slipped away from her, flexing and tensing after the shock and thrill of merely a moment of embracing her. 

“Maul,” Amara sighed as she sank down against the pillows. “Could you stay?” Her voice had become meek and a touch shy with her request. “Just for a little while,” She was all tucked into the blankets, laying next to the indent he’d left within her bed.

It would do him a bit of good to sit before he launched himself off of buildings again, wouldn’t it? Maul decided to indulge her, moving toward the foot of her bed to retrieve his cloak. He shrugged it on around himself before assuming his place at her side, noticing the way she’d leaned toward him. Without a word, Amara had clamored closer, her head against his shoulder. 

Maul found these affectionate movements to be extremely foreign to him. It was strange, seeing how they gravitated toward one another, sometimes wordlessly and sometimes mindlessly. Her very being consumed him. Before he could move away, she was asleep, eyes closed and breathing soft. Maul felt trapped, now — the last thing he wanted was to disturb her.

Truthfully, he’d watched her sleep numerous times before. Oftentimes, she was plagued with nightmares, but she seemed peaceful this time around. Her small hands were curled into the sleeves of his robe, cheek pressed into his shoulder. A satisfied rumble formed within his chest, and he’d decided to relax himself. He would stay for an hour or so, make sure she was deep enough within her slumber, and depart.

What should’ve been one hour had dwindled into four, and when Maul awoke, they were holding one another, more or less. Amara was snuggled against him, looking so angelic as she slept soundly, this night. Maul rarely slept — he was a nocturnal creature, the darkness being his ally. He lifted his head off of hers, dissatisfied with his weakness. However, he was gentle with the girl, prying her from him and tucking her back in.

The Son of Dathomir lingered at her bedside, his warmth still palpable in the emptiness next to her. Allowing himself another look, he finally had to turn away to leave her. It was very early in the morning, though he had places to be and tasks to complete. It would be best if he left now — turning back to lay with her again was the greatest temptation of all.

Maul perched upon the balcony’s ledge, yellow irises fluttering back to her sleeping form, and ahead again. He exhaled, sighed begrudgingly, and lept.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I have a mild Darth Maul obsession, but who doesn’t? Thanks for reading and for leaving kudos on part 1! As usual, kudos & comments are loved but not required! Part 3 will definitely be smut, a forewarning. I plan to just keep writing a bunch of oneshots about them. Hope you all enjoyed & stay tuned for more! :)


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